cautionary tale part 03
After the jogger you call me. You sound relaxed and contented on the phone. “It happened again.”
I know something is up. “Did you break your diet?”
“Noooo~” You sound dreamy. I picture you lying on your back, tummy gurgling as you imagine shapes in the clouds. “I was good.”
You didn’t know you could hear someone pinch the bridge of their nose through the phone. “Be a little more specific. How bad is it? One to ten?”
“Like… Birmingham.”
There is a pause on the line. We can’t go back to Birmingham again after last time.
“I’ll bring… I’ll bring a few things. Are you okay?”
“Mhmmm.” A burp crackles innocently through my phone. “Little hungry, still. Bring snacks.” A pause. “And wet wipes. Lots and lots of wet wipes.”
You stretch luxuriously as you hear the familiar pattern of my gait approach you where you’re lounging in the long grass. The full feeling in your stomach has regrettably diminished but your intestines have been on fire, the combination of processed waste and quick-running liquid food combining to produce a symphony of groans, gurgles and fascinating liquid sounds.
You sit up and smile a happy smile. My own smile on seeing you freezes when I catch sight of you. I actually stagger backwards. Oh yeah. You’re covered in blood.
“Good call on the wet wipes,” I murmur, kneeling beside where you’re sitting. My backpack is laid down and I begin pulling out packets.
“Gimme a kiss,” you tease. Your fanged grin is a pretty white slash through deepening red.
I lean close till my face is centimetres from yours. You were joking but the intoxicating sensation of fresh-stolen blood burning the perennial chill from your skin makes you suddenly long for the kiss I’m holding hostage. “I worked at my dad’s butcher’s shop. You think a little blood’s going to keep me from kissing your beautiful lips?”
You coo as my lips brush yours, feather light; and again, teasing only. When your eyes close and you move in close you find my lips suddenly replaced by a cool, fresh-scented wet wipe. Outraged, you open your eyes and find me grinning.
“Want a kiss,” you say sulkily. You cross your arms across your chest, high up from where your breasts ride a still-formidable belly.
“You’ll get a kiss when I know what we’re dealing with. Where are they?”
You point to where a body lies befouled and torn, scarcely hidden by the same long grass that forms your own hiding place. “Her. Just one.”
I nod and move to stand… Then hesitate. The dry blood across your face can temper but not silence the siren call of your lips when they bed for a kiss. I come back close and press my lips against yours. You taste faintly metallic but the heat of your mouth is intoxicating. You sigh, satisfied, and hold my face between your hands while you kiss me like a long, luxurious meal.
I’m businesslike when I return from the feed site. I give details about chickenwire and foliage and coming back later to dig a pit. You’re not really listening to anything beyond the comforting burr of my voice. Someone is taking care of matters: that’s all that matters.
A low and silent guff marks the frustration of your bowels, still bearing an unfair load. The gas is a hurricane to a trapped and innocent spirit you are idly dissolving, back and forth within the entire sucking length of your intestines.
You cleaned the worst of the blood up yourself and are content to let me chase out the remaining streaks. You changed while I was off inspecting the jogger. Street-legal again, you sigh. Summer evening approaches. It’s so peaceful out here.
“One more thing. Pucker up, sweetheart.”
You look to see me brandishing a short tube and a tiny brush. I packed your lipstick! You felt naked without it once you had wiped away the evidence of your meal.
Kneeling forward, you part your lips. A little treat for one who has made you happy and whom you know will appreciate seeing your mouth like that. You relish the careful, loving attention as I paint your lips with the lipbrush.
Done, you smack your lips together and smile. “We should picnic. Go fetch me another child.”
When you smile like that, I’m tempted.